Dare You to Care
by Zemia
Summary: Kitazawa’s little brother is all grown up, breasts and all. Yoshiki had reasons for becoming a girl, as well as gaining custody of little Rikkun, though she’s never really explained herself. That is, until now.
1. Chapter 1

**Dare You to Care**

by: Zemia

Disclaimer: Nobody in the Gravitation universe belongs to me. I claim no kinship whatsoever and sing Maki Murakami's praises. The only thing I'm getting out of writing these is sick sadistic pleasure out of making the character's lives even more difficult.

A/N: I THINK I can only put up the first couple of chapters of this, not sure yet. Have to re-read the rules in regards to rape and stuff. This story is newer than Ghost Monk or Nightmare Melodies, tho like those two, I've never shared it with more than two people before. It's … a lot darker. Well, we'll see.

**Chapter 01 – Ward of the State**

"Since your late brother, Yuki Kitazawa, had been your sole living relative... and he'd failed to name a guardian for you by the time of his death, you are now a ward of the state of New York. The Kitazawa Estate will be put into trust for you until your eighteenth birthday. At which time, it will be awarded to you." Judge Chandler flipped through the paperwork, before raising his head to study the boy in front of him.

Barely over twelve, Yoshiki Kitazawa's tussled ochre locks shielded the honey brown eyes as he stared at the table in front of him. There was nothing he could say. There was nobody to care about a single boy being tossed into the legal system.

Taking the silence to mean understanding and agreement, the judge continued with a sigh. "You are to be placed in foster care, to be watched over until you come of age. Mr. Reynolds here will see that you've arrived safely to the agency put in charge of your case."

Chandler almost made the offer that the boy could go to him when he needed it. But then, this case was just like every other, and he couldn't save ALL of them. So he did the best he could, sending them to homes where they could grow up decently. Domestic violence, neglect, child abuse in all its forms. He'd seen it all, and more, come through his courtroom. Kitazawa was no exception. "That will be all."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." Turning towards Reynolds, the young boy murmured, "I'm ready. What will happen to my house?"

"It goes into the Estate. You'll be able to live there again in six years, if you want." Mr. Reynolds gathered his coat and briefcase, both looking very expensive. "Since there was no mortgage on it, it won't be sold off to reimburse anybody."

"I see. Thank you." Yoshiki murmured. "May I get something from home first?"

"Of course. We'll make sure that everything valuable is secure as well. I've acquired a safety deposit box for anything important to be put there. I'll be cosigner until you're legal, then it'll transfer over to your name only."

"Thank you again, Mr. Reynolds. You've been most kind." Yoshiki smiled up at the man, though he knew better than to trust him. To trust anyone. They always betrayed you. He got into the car, allowing the lawyer to drive him to his house.

------

"You're to report to the office in an hour, so you have thirty minutes to get what you want." Mr. Reynolds said, pulling up to the house. "I'll wait here."

_Perfect_. Yoshiki flashed him a brilliant smile. "Thank you." He got out of the car and let himself into the house. As he looked around, there was nothing that spoke of personal attachment to him. None of it would probably be around by the time he was granted custody of the house, but that was okay. He didn't want to remember he'd been a whore's brat and brother anyway.

Father had spent all extra cash on booze, and mother had had little of value, but there was one necklace among the junk. Something his grandfather had given her when she'd been little. Pure white gold, a small heart pendant, with another yellow gold heart in the middle. Wrapping it carefully into a cloth, he tucked it into a hidden spot under the cushion of his shoe.

Taking the rest of the knockoff jewelry and tucking it into an envelope, he kept a piece for himself to fight for if Reynolds gave him a hard time, which would indicate that everything was there. It was a tin heart, painted purple. He knew that he'd probably never see any of it again.

There were only a handful of pictures, and these he'd placed in another envelope in his pocket. Finally, he went into his own room, the small little thing that had previously been a walk-in closet. He gathered his clothes, which fit one small bag, and the only toy he'd had. A little stuffed mouse he'd named "Shiki" when he'd been small. Having been ignored most of his life, Yoshiki had learned too young how to fend for himself. He'd played with Shiki for hours at a time, caring for him as he'd never been. Pretending to be Shiki's mother, unconsciously wishing it for himself, he didn't yet know that he'd personified himself in the little tattered mouse.

Smiling at it, he clutched it to his chest, caring for Shiki as he'd always done. "Don't worry, Shiki. Everything will be alright." he whispered, tucking it into his pocket.

Going into his brother's room, Yoshiki found some papers and other things. Nothing of interest but a pair of sunglasses. Slipping them into his pocket as well, he recalled Yuki leaving for that last time. _Yuki had patted his head, smiling that goofy smile he'd taken to wearing the past few months, saying "I'm off to tutor Eiri now. You be good, Yoshiki."_

With a deep breath, Yoshiki turned and left the house, probably for the last time. He'd loved Yuki. Having had no real mother or father, though they'd been around, he'd latched onto any shred of kindness Yuki had shown him. But, like their parents, Yuki had abandoned him in the end as well, not having had even appointed a guardian for him in case something ever happened. Like when he'd gotten himself killed. Shot in the chest for trying to rape Eiri.

No. There had been no love in this house.

Mr. Reynolds, thankfully, granted the boy his need for silence, pulling onto the street and heading for the agency.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**Dare You to Care**

by: Zemia

Disclaimer: Nobody in the Gravitation universe belongs to me. I claim no kinship whatsoever and sing Maki Murakami's praises. The only thing I'm getting out of writing these is sick sadistic pleasure out of making the character's lives even more difficult.

**Chapter 02 – A New Home? Collars and Pepsi Don't Mix**

The first house hadn't worked out, though Yoshiki'd managed to survive the beatings for a year and a half. Nothing was done, until that last one that had landed him in critical at the hospital for his fourteenth birthday. The foster parents had been put on charges for child abuse and endangerment. They'd never gone to trial.

For the second try, once Yoshiki was well enough to leave the hospital, he'd been placed into the care of Mr. and Mrs. Ormand. They were a couple who had other children, natural and foster, and the now-fourteen year old Yoshiki allowed them to take him home.

"This is going to be your home for awhile, so we'll show you around, then explain the rules of the house." Mr. Ormand explained, leading Yoshiki into the house. "Meals are regular times, in the kitchen together, and no snacks in between."

Mrs. Ormand hung up their coats. "We have four children; one of our own, and three other fosters. You'll meet them in a moment."

Yoshiki took in everything they said without a word. Despite their friendliness, something was wrong about this house. It gave him the creeps. Mr. Ormand got Yoshiki a drink while Mrs. Ormand called the children downstairs. A boy, who looked just like the Ormands, entered the kitchen first. What Yoshiki noticed first were his eyes. They were blue, a very cold blue. He looked about sixteen years old, and they introduced him as Syd. One by one, the foster children came into view, and Yoshiki realized why the house creeped him out.

All three were twelve to fifteen. All three, wore collars.

Turning, Yoshiki tried to bolt, but Mrs. Ormand was already blocking the door while Mr. Ormand explained, "You see, the government gives us a stipend for your ass every month. But it's usually never enough to pay expenses for taking care of your worthless hides, so you work off the rest. No sense us paying out of our pockets, is there?"

"How do you get away with it from the agency!?" Yoshiki cried out at them, looking for another way out.

"The children know better than to tell. You will too." Mr. Ormand stepped forward, placing a hand on Yoshiki's shoulder, smiling benignly as he dug his fingers into the tendon there. "Now. Let's get you settled in, shall we?" Guiding the boy in this manner, he firmly led him towards his new room.

------

Through the next several weeks, Yoshiki learned he wasn't allowed to talk with the other foster children, though they were encouraged to socialize so that, when the social workers came to check on them, they didn't act like total strangers and tip off that anything was amiss. Used to this type of situation, Yoshiki almost felt as if he'd been back home.

Until the Ormands had found Shiki and thrown him away, stating that fourteen year old boys did NOT play with stuffed animals. Almost physically feeling the last shred of caring ripped away from him, Yoshiki had cried for two days, refusing to eat, or socialize.

Finally, Syd helped his mother by sitting on Yoshiki's chest, while Mrs. Ormand spoonfed him broth. When he drank it down meekly, Mrs. Ormand approved, allowing Syd to remain and begin the training.

Syd left after his mother, returning a few minutes later with several objects. One, a jar of Vaseline, and the other was a sixteen ounce bottle of Pepsi. Seating himself next to Yoshiki on the bed, who scooted away from him wide-eyed, he smiled almost amiably. "It's not so bad, if you don't fight it, you know?" He stroked his fingers down Yoshiki's leg before allowing the younger boy to pull away. "If you're good, I'll even use the Vaseline."

"Why are you doing this?" Yoshiki asked, his voice hoarse as he kept an eye on Syd.

Pausing, Syd eyed Yoshiki, narrowing his eyes. "Don't tell me your voice hasn't changed yet. You're HOW old? Hmm, don't say a word with the clients until it's finished. You won't earn as much then." He shrugged negligently at Yoshiki's question, as it didn't matter. "I do it because I get some of it. There's this car I want and they won't pay for it. So you will."

"You're selling us for a car?!"

"That's right. The car's more use to me than you are." Syd leaned on his elbow, partaking some advice. "Look. I'll explain it to you, maybe you'll get it out of your system. The kids in foster care, they're there because the government needs to have them go someplace. Since they can't get rid of you permanently, legally, they pay people like my parents to take you. But really, without that money, nobody'd want you."

Yoshiki's brows puckered, about to protest, but Syd kept going, interrupting anything the kid would have to say. "Don't you get it? You're garbage. Trash. Leftovers that've sat around too long and need to be thrown out, but nobody wants to deal with, or even admit exists. You're only worth the money the government pays for you, and that's not even enough to put up with you."

Cringing, Yoshiki turned his head, staring at the wall. Not wanting to admit that the words were having the effect Syd wanted them to have. Yes, he was garbage that had been left behind. "Is this what you told the other three? Is that why they're like that?"

"They know their worth. Soon, you will too." Syd held up the bottle. "Now, take a drink first. It'll keep you hydrated. Since this is about the average size of the clients, we'll get you broken in before we let them have you. Then you'll be used to it and won't cry so much."

TBC


End file.
